


Silently Forgiven

by mahbbys



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Destiel - Freeform, Ficlet, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Impala Sex, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Profound Bond, Rating: PG13, SPN - Freeform, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Wordcount: 100-500
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 19:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahbbys/pseuds/mahbbys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas can't tell Dean he forgives him because Dean can't ask for forgiveness. So Cas shows him instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silently Forgiven

**Author's Note:**

> This is what came out of using a random writing prompt generator. Smut is mild and mostly implied. (Set fuzzily in Season 9, maybe, or beyond. No spoilers at all.) Enjoy.

Cas shows his forgiveness in little ways. The gentle kiss behind Dean's ear; the slow trace of his fingertips against Dean's ribs. He can't tell Dean he forgives him, because Dean can't bring himself to ask for forgiveness. Not that Dean would believe the words, anyway. So he has to show it instead, in a way that Dean will recognize.

Cas breathes in the woodsy scent of Dean's skin; his nose nuzzled against the rough stubble of Dean's jaw. With every intake of breath, Cas draws in the reasons why he loves this man, why he's always loved him. With every escape of air, Cas releases all the reasons why he was hurt, why he was angry.

They're together now, Cas tells himself, and that's what matters for this moment. In all of Heaven, Hell, and Earth, this is the only thing that matters. Dean Winchester is here, beside and beneath him. For now the Impala's backseat is an island and an oasis.

There's skin and heat and a rush of blood within his veins. Experiences that Cas can't fathom ever having been without. The slide of a bare back against the smooth leather of the seat. The sudden, bruising insistence of Dean’s mouth. The glint of green around expanded pupils; a blush of rose atop sharp cheekbones. 

Cas doesn’t know how long this will last. Maybe only until the temporary, physical wanting is satiated. Burnt out to ash like paper in a flame. Dean comes and goes. As always. In every sense. It doesn’t matter. This is home for Cas now, and he’ll accept short visits to the hearth if that’s all he can get.

With every whisper of need from Dean, Cas silently replies, “You don’t have to ask for my forgiveness.” With every brush of his lips, Cas begs, “Keep coming back to me, and I will keep forgetting every trespass.” With every swing of his hips, Cas promises wordlessly, “I have been yours since I first laid my hand upon you.”


End file.
